


We're (Finally) Right

by WhereIKeepMyTrash



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Self Confidence Issues, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereIKeepMyTrash/pseuds/WhereIKeepMyTrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Are you good for anything or can you only do your job when you’re screwing evidence out of someone?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're (Finally) Right

_“Are you good for anything or can you only do your job when you’re screwing evidence out of someone?”_  
  
Those words felt like a slap in the face as they echoed through the courthouse just loud enough to turn a few heads, disapproving looks sent in Connor’s direction. And boy if they didn’t stick with him as he went on his way. And back at the house, with Michaela rubbing it in his face, he just couldn’t help but let the words pour over him. It had always been said by everyone around him.  
  
  
_‘Oh, this is my slutty little brother’_  
  
_‘Jesus, Connor, you’ve fucked all these guys? You’re such a slut’_  
  
_‘I know I said that we weren’t exclusive, but I still think you should tone down the sluttiness’_  
  
  
_‘Don’t act like you don’t like it, you filthy little cockslut’_  
  
Not everyone was as bold as the people closest to him, usually the ones he was seeing, but he’d expected Annelise to at least try to hurt him in a more concrete way. But no, she was making him think about it. And if there was one thing that Connor Walsh was good at, it was overthinking things. So if he was a bit distracted during movie night with Oliver, he couldn’t really help it.  
  
Honestly, how could Oliver even stand him? The uncertainty of what they were, the constant favors, the potential illegality of Connor’s actions, the constant workload that Connor brought home with him, the very little free time he had to spend with Oliver, the douche-y behaviour? Connor was literally the worst not-boyfriend. That’s without the constant fucking of clients to get information. God, that’s without the fact that he caused a man to jump out of a window, _fuck_.  
  
Connor needed to stop thinking. He needed something. He needed drugs ( _wouldn’t that be funny_ ) or alcohol ( _fuck if he would face his_ real _problems_ ) or something. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t around Oliver, he didn’t deserve that. He deserved someone better than Connor, someone who wouldn’t get hammered and sleep around on him.  
  
“What’s going on in there, Con?” Oliver’s voice was soft in the way that always made Connor shiver. That tone of voice made him think dangerous thoughts. His sister planting a kiss on his forehead on his tenth birthday, his grandmother putting a downy comforter around his shoulders, the warmth of a large hand laying heavy on his small shoulder, warm brown eyes.  
  
“Nothing. Just work stuff.” It wasn’t a lie. It was about work and Connor’s apparent inability to do a decent job at it unless he was using his body. God, the things that he did for this job. The things that Connor did to get through school. The ways that he sometimes had to go in order to pay for tuition. The ways he used to go to pay for drinks.  
  
“C’mon, Connor. You know I don’t believe that.” There was a moment's’ pause before the voice grew meek in its softness. “Is it the whole Pax thing again?”  
  
No, it wasn’t, but that was always part of it, part of the reminder of how wretched Connor was in the first place. So, he shook his head no, avoiding eye contact with the man who was now squatting in front of the couch, in front of Connor.  
  
“Whatever it is, Con, you know you can talk about it if you want to. And if you don’t want to, just say the word and we’ll talk about something else or just cuddle or something.”  
  
God, Connor did not want to talk about it. He did not want to talk about it at all. Like, how was he supposed to word it. ‘Do you think that being a slut is the only thing I offer to the world, or am I entirely useless?’ That wouldn’t fly with Oliver. God, he would probably take him to ‘get help’. The thought repulsed him.  
  
No, instead he opened his arms and fixed his, what he knew to be pitiful, gaze on his not-boyfriend. Oliver was quick to rise at full height and fold Connor in his arms as he pressed soft kisses into his hair. Connor melted in his embrace, pressing his face into the crook of Oliver’s neck, nosing at it and shuffling closer to his warmth. And in that moment, he could feel himself spiraling.  
  
“Whatever it is, Con, it’s going to be okay. I know that I can’t promise that, but I’ll try to make it okay, yeah? We’ll be okay.”  
  
God, if that didn’t make him want to cry, because Connor could deal with insults. He could deal with leering comments. He couldn’t deal with this. And if Oliver noticed the slight wetness on his sweater, he didn’t say anything, just rubbed calming circles between Connor’s shoulder blades. The younger man’s shoulders were trembling slightly, and his wet eyelashes brushed against Oliver’s neck, making him shiver. He took Connor’s chin in his hand, tilting it up to kiss him. But it was too much. And Connor pulled away, turning his head to avoid meeting Oliver’s eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Oliver started, cupping Connor’s face in his hand and stroking over his cheekbone with his thumb. “What’s this about, Con? This isn’t normal.”  
  
Connor shook his head, eyes downcast. “I know, I know, I’m sorry-”  
  
“Don’t.” Oliver warned, pulling Connor into his arms once more. “Don’t apologize, just… please talk to me when you’re ready?” Connor heaved a sigh and pulled back, taking Oliver’s hands in his own.  
  
“Sorry, I ju- oh shit, sorry, I-” His whole body was tense and his tongue felt heavy like concrete shoes, dragging him under the waves. He tried to shake his head to clear it, He just had to say it, he just had to get it out, even if Oliver’s answer could hurt more than help. “Please tell me that this whole thing isn’t just because of my body.”  
  
Oliver blinked, head bobbing back in shock. “What?”  
  
Conner bit his lip, sweating hands slipping out of Oliver’s dry ones as he wrapped an arm around his middle, his other elbow resting on top of it as he covered his mouth with a shaking fist.  
  
“I _like_ you. A lot. And yeah, the sex is great, but that’s not the only reason why I’m with you. I’m with you because you’re so, so good and nice and funny and like Thai food and look great in my grandmother’s knit hats. But I... don’t have anything to give to you. I lie _all the time_ , I sleep with other people on the job, I never have enough time to spend with you. The only thing I have to give you is sex. That’s all I have to give anyone, that’s all I’m good for, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that. You deserve better.”  
  
As Connor was lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice Oliver start to approach him, slowly and tentatively as if he was a wild animal.  
  
“Con? Hey, Connor. C’mere” He pulled Connor back to him, but held him at arm’s length. “What happened? What’s got you thinking like this?” Connor shrugged, shoulders hunched into Oliver’s hands. While he gazed at Connor, Oliver shook his head, sending a rush of fear through Connor’s system. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want pity.  
  
“This is so not about the sex, hon,” Connor let out a breath that he had been keeping. “Even though it’s great. And that is absolutely not the only thing you’re good for. Whoever has been telling you these things is stupid.”  
  
Connor resisted the urge to snort, but he couldn’t help but let out a huff. If Oliver was right, then everyone he’d ever met was stupid. Almost all of his friends and family had made a pass at his sexuality, both orientation and ‘loose morals’. Oliver gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders hard enough to border discomfort.  
  
“They are. You aren’t just a body, Connor, you’re the person inside of it too. And sure, you may lie, but everyone does. You sacrifice so much for your job, and even if that means less time with me, it’s great to see that you’re so passionate about something. And about the sleeping around thing…” Oh no, not the pause. “You know how I feel about that. I don’t really like it, but you don’t do it as much anymore. And I understand what Annelise expects of you, though I don’t approve of how hard she pushes any of you.”  
  
It was true. Oliver always harped on Annelise using them as ‘free labor’ and how it wasn’t fair that they had to do so much of her job for her.  
  
“I shouldn’t have eve-”  
  
“Don’t apologize, Con. Not for something like this. Like I said, whoever said those disgusting things about you is an idiot.”  
  
“So Annelise is an idiot?”  
  
“Annelise?”  
  
“Shit. Fuck. No, I deserved it. I totally deserved it. I didn-”  
  
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare, Connor Walsh. Nothing that you could have done warrants your boss making comments on your body.”  
  
“But I didn’t-”  
  
“It doesn’t matter, Connor. You do not deserve that.”  
  
Maybe… maybe he didn’t? After all, who was the one making him do all of the screwing? Who expected the screwing? Who needed the evidence? Who- “What did she say?”  
  
“What did… what?” Why did he want to know?  
  
“I want to know what she said.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because I want to assess the damage.”  
  
“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to-”  
  
“Connor. What. Did. She. Say?”  
  
The words were still fresh, though they had been overshadowed by now, by Oliver, by warmth and good and genuine caring. They didn’t hurt so much anymore, not now that Connor knew that not everyone thought them.  
  
“Do you want an overview or verbatim.”  
  
“Knowing you, verbatim is the only way I’ll actually get it out of you.”  
  
So Connor cleared his throat.  
  
“Are you good for anything or can you only do your job when you’re screwing evidence out of someone?”  
  
And Oliver was livid. His face was red and there was a vein on his neck that looked close to bursting with anger. His hands trembled and he balled them into fists.  
  
“You’re worth so much more than just sex, Con. I know that you don’t do boyfriends and stuff, but you’re not a bad lover in any sense of the word. You’re funny, you make me laugh. I haven’t had to actually order takeout for myself in so long, and you always know the best places to get it. I know how much you actually don’t like sci-fi films, but you still watch them with me. You try to take me to fancy restaurants but don’t get mad when I want to just stay in with you. You care about everything so much, even though you pretend that you don’t.”  
  
God, he’s crying. Oliver is crying, Connor is crying, they both look like someone punched their puppy.  
  
“You’re a shit cook, you hog the blankets and always complain about how cold it is in the apartment, your clothes are all over my room. You hate pickles and don’t drink and refuse to ever move your papers if you’re in the middle of a case, and are the most infuriating man on the planet sometimes, but I love you and-”  
  
Connor’s head whipped up and his eyes were wide as they met Oliver’s. He looked just as shocked as Connor felt, and his mouth was still open. Then everything came crashing down, and they couldn’t help but just cling closer.  
  
“I love you.” Oliver’s voice was a hoarse whisper in Connor’s ear  
  
“I love you too.” he whispered back, eyes shutting as he relished in the feeling of Oliver so close to him in a way that wasn’t sexual, that was just love and closeness and feelings and God, Connor usually hated feelings. He just felt so warm, and maybe this is what real love felt like? Like playing with his nephews, like a kiss from his grandmother, like the warmth that was always in Oliver’s eyes, and it felt so good. It felt right. It made sense.  
  
And when he pulled away, that look was there once more. And finally something seemed to click in Connor’s mind. Oliver cares. He loves me. He cares. And if that thought alone wasn’t enough.  
  
“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, so long to tell you, that it took you feeling like this to-”  
  
“No, no, no. I’m sorry that I worried you and I’m sorry that I cracked, I should have-”  
  
“Please, Con, don’t apologize and I won’t. It’s out in the open now.”  
  
“I guess it is. Huh. I love you.” It felt so good to say it out loud, so good to admit it to himself. Connor was sure that he was going to have some kind of big freak out about it later, but right now it was nice.  
  
“I love you too, you absolute wonder, Connor Walsh.” And it was nice to hear as well.  
  
“Y’know… I said I don’t do boyfriends” And immediately Oliver’s face dropped.  
  
“Yeah. I remember.” Connor smiled, and Oliver cocked his head.  
  
“I might have to make an exception for you.”  


And when Oliver kissed him, it felt like his first kiss. It felt _better _than his first kiss. It felt like a new beginning, like love. And everything was right.__

**Author's Note:**

> As Connor is my trash son, I was livid when Annelise took such a cheap shot at Connor. And his fACE FELL AND HE LOOKED SO SAD AND WE ALREADY HAVE SEEN THE BOY HAVE A PANIC ATTACK SO MY FINGERS WERE AUTOMATICALLY LIKE "HAVE OLIVER FIX IT". HERE YOU GO.


End file.
